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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411717">losing my grip here, off the deep end</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren'>carefulren</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Brief mentions of attempted suicide, Brief mentions of overdose, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Hurt/Comfort, Like Very Brief, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Panic, TK's struggling ya'll, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:27:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After overhearing a conversation about his dad's diagnosis, TK goes to Carlos for a distraction, and Carlos and Owen are worried.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star)/TK Strand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>288</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>losing my grip here, off the deep end</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>TK’s running, shoes slamming fast and heavy against the sidewalk, chest heaving with each, sharp, trembling inhale and exhale. His lungs are burning, quaking, and his vision is masked by an uncomfortable mix of rain and tears. </p><p>Lung cancer.</p><p>He had overheard his dad and Judd arguing at the station right before the end of shift. He was going to intervene, tell the two idiots to shut the hell up and play nice, but then Judd said something that had him freeze in his tracks, blood fading to ice. </p><p>
  <em>“You’re yelling at me because I skipped a therapy session, but you haven’t even told your own damn son about your lung cancer!” </em>
</p><p>His muscles had taken control the second Judd’s words fully processed in his mind, and he abandoned his bag, dropping it to the floor with a low thump, and turned to run out of the station, ignoring the shouts from behind him as he stumbled out into the rain. </p><p>It takes his mind a moment to process where his legs are taking him, but then he can make out Carlos’ police car pulling into a parking spot, most likely getting home after a long shift, and TK chases the sudden gripping need to physically feel Carlos. He closes the distance, skidding around the back of the car to the driver’s side, and he rips the door open, pupils blowing out at the gun pressed to his chest. </p><p>“TK?” </p><p>TK’s got both hands raised, his chest shaking against the barrel of the gun, and he nods quickly. </p><p>Carlos quickly lowers the gun, concern etched across his face, yet his eyes hold a hint of heat, a brief bout of anger from their previous time together. He steps out of the car, leaving his gun on the seat. “What the hell are you–” </p><p>TK doesn’t let him finish. He slams into Carlos, pressing him against the side of the SUV, and he firmly presses his lips to Carlos’, molding his body to Carlos and leeching Carlos’ warmth despite the rain. He drinks in Carlos’ lips with a low moan, but then he’s being pushed away, and he tries to move away from Carlos’ tight grip on his shoulders, but he can’t. </p><p>“TK, what’s going on?” Carlos adopts a softer tone, concern bleeding through his voice, and he keeps his gaze locked to TK’s, eyes trying to read the clouded gaze staring back at him, as he reaches for his phone that’s started buzzing in his pocket. </p><p>He mouths ‘stay,’ keeping one firm grip to TK’s shoulder as he answers his phone. </p><p>“Officer Reyes.” </p><p>When TK tries to pull away again, he digs his fingers into TK’s shoulders, ignoring the piercing glare as he listens to Owen Strand’s panicked voice on the other end. He rattles off his address when Owen takes a frantic breath and hangs up the phone shortly after. </p><p>“Let’s go inside–”</p><p>“–no,” TK finally jerks away from Carlos’ grip. His heart is slamming against his ribs, painful, rapid thumps, and he eyes the dark street behind him. “I came for a distraction, but you’re not–” </p><p>Carlos steps toward him, planting a feather-light kiss to TK’s trembling lips. Though faint, the kiss carries a lot of weight, and TK leans into it with a choked sob, fingers curling into Carlos’ wet shirt. </p><p>“I just need…” TK tries, voice shaking, and he drops his head to Carlos’ shoulder. He can’t process words, can’t catch a single, coherent thought that doesn’t cycle back to lung cancer, and his chest <em>hurts</em>. </p><p>“Can we go inside?” Carlos keeps his voice low, a breath of a whisper into TK’s dripping hair, and TK can only nod, suddenly too exhausted to fight against Carlos any further. </p><p>His mind goes frighteningly blank when he’s lead inside. He feels numb, empty, a familiar feeling that he’s itching to chase with a few pills. He’s only faintly aware of Carlos calling out his name, but he can’t answer, only faintly aware of Carlos tugging his wet clothes off, and he wishes he could smirk at this, make a lewd comment, drink in Carlos’ muscles with a hungry gaze, but he’s so, alarmingly <em>numb</em>.</p><p>He blinks away visions of pill bottles when Carlos drapes a blanket around his shoulders before cupping a palm to his cold cheek. He leans into the soft touch, muted tears slipping from his cheeks. </p><p>“TK? Are you with me?” </p><p>He wants to answer, but he can’t find his voice, and for the moment, he doesn’t need to for Carlos’ front door flies open. </p><p>On instinct, Carlos reaches for his gun, hand hitting the empty holster, but his muscles relax when Owen steps into the room with Judd hot on his heels. </p><p>“TK!” </p><p>There’s so much panicked relief coating Owen’s tone, but TK can’t see his father, he can’t see the man moving toward him, crouching before him with two hands to his knees. All he can see are two blackened, cracking organs that are struggling to function. He can hear the repetitive beeping in a too-white room, and he can see a frail man withering away in front of him. </p><p>“TK?” </p><p>“Lung cancer?” He whispers, voice cracking, and then he’s being pulled to Owen’s chest, and the gates he’s been building break against a wave of pure, gripping fear. He sobs into Owen’s shoulder, sucking in trembling breaths of rain, faint aftershave, chasing that sense of familiarity, and Owen’s arms are impressively tight around him, a force of strength that TK doesn’t want to watch fade away. </p><p>“It’s stage one,” Owen tries, and TK rips away from the hug, unwillingly pulling toward the heated anger that’s mixing in his fear. </p><p>“It’s still cancer!” He starts, fingers curling into fists against Owen’s chest. “Cancer you didn’t even tell me about!” He slams his fists against Owen’s chest. “You told <em>him</em>,” he growls out, looking over Owen’s shoulders to see Judd frowning at him. “But you didn’t tell me? Your own fucking son?” His mind is flooded with images of IVs, hospital beds, funerals, and he weakly hits Owen in the chest once more before crumpling against his father, shaking fully. </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me?” He mutters, sucking in a trembling breath. </p><p>Gently, Owen pushes TK away so he can meet his son’s pained, fear-filled eyes with his own, narrow, steady ones. He swallows back his own concern for his cancer. “You weren’t ready to know.” </p><p>TK doesn’t have to ask to know what his father means. “How is anyone ever ready?” He opts for, and Owen drops his forehead against his, hands gripping at TK’s arms. </p><p>“They aren’t,” he mumbles, “but we are going to get through this. I promise.” </p><p>TK pulls away, frowning, sniffling, slumping against a pressing weight of exhaustion. “You can’t promise that.” His voice is a little clearer, just a hint stronger, and his chest hurts just a little less at the sight of his healthy, strong father smiling at him. </p><p>“Yes,” Owen says, voice soft yet heated with confidence, “I can.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Obviously I don't know how the show is going to address TK and Owen and the lung cancer, but I just REALLY wanted to explore what would happen if TK accidentally found out. </p><p>Come say hi or drop a prompt over on tumblr :) (@toosicktoocare)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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